


Whisper Sweet Nothings to Me

by veiledndarkness



Category: Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-01
Updated: 2012-04-01
Packaged: 2017-11-02 21:36:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/373596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/veiledndarkness/pseuds/veiledndarkness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He can’t help but wish Merle was like this more often. Written for the twd_kinkmeme on Livejournal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Whisper Sweet Nothings to Me

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompt: _When Merle gets trashed on xanax, he suddenly becomes a loving brother..._
> 
> Daryl is roughly 17/18 or so in this.

He can feel his gaze burning a hole through his back and he kind of doesn’t want to turn around and see precisely _why_ his brother is staring at him. Merle hasn’t been right lately and he knows there’s a shitload of pills in a baggie in their bedroom, a fucking prescription goody bag and Christ, he’s even more sure that he doesn’t want to know where the hell Merle got it from. 

And now, he even feel the eyes on him and it makes his skin crawl somewhat.

His hand closes on the beer can and he grabs it, letting the old fridge door fall shut behind him. The can’s only lukewarm, but that’s cold enough for him and he pops the tab, taking a big gulp. He’s not old enough to drink yet, but that’s never stopped him and Merle holds no love for following the law.

He can’t avoid Merle, not when he’s been hanging around more than usual, and his normally surly, aggressively angry brother has fallen into a silence that makes him even more uncomfortable. 

When Merle stops running his mouth, bad things tend to happen and Daryl really wants to find an excuse to escape from his brother’s presence before he ends up on the business end of his brother’s vengeful fists.

He leans against the counter and turns, finally acknowledging Merle’s steady gaze, and his skin flushes at the leer his brother is levelling at him. He holds up the can, offering it silently. Maybe he wants a beer…?

Merle licks his lower lip and his eyes seem glazed over. Daryl mentally sighs and wanders over to the small space that they could laughingly call the living room. He sits on the edge of the couch and listens to the sound of Merle’s slow, harsh breaths, sweat beading down his forehead. 

“Why you sittin’ so far away, little brother?” 

Daryl blinks and the hand holding the beer can shakes. He’s startled by the words, by how _close_ Merle suddenly is to him. 

“I…” he starts to say but he stops when Merle’s lips curve into a smile. 

It’s a real smile, a genuine one that makes Daryl’s breath catch in his throat. Merle never smiles, not like this, and Daryl feels a small flicker of hope that maybe, just maybe Merle’s actually happy for once. 

“C’mon over a bit closer there, son,” Merle says and his voice is gentler than Daryl’s ever heard before and he kind of wants to get closer to him. 

He loves his brother, even when he doesn’t like him very much. No one cares about him like Merle does, and he knows that’s true, cause if it wasn’t, their mama would’ve stayed and their dad would have cared enough to stick around much longer after that.

And so he does, he shifts closer to Merle, even though he’s a bit uncomfortable with how _different_ his brother seems. Merle drapes his arm around Daryl and his arm is big, heavy and he hugs Daryl closer to him. 

“Look at ya,” Merle marvels and his voice is still this side of slow, slurred even, but it’s softer than normal, and Daryl wants to bask in the familiar musky, slightly sweaty smell of his big brother.

“You alright, Merle?” Daryl asks as Merle’s big hand settles on his hair and then he feels Merle’s fingers stroking his head of all things. 

Merle nods and smiles again. His fingers move down and stroke the tips of Daryl’s ears and the sensation makes Daryl shiver all over again. His skin prickles and he leans back against Merle, his heart beginning to beat faster. 

“Grown into a real man, ya have. Makes me real proud,” Merle adds and he rubs his fingers back and forth over Daryl’s ears, rubbing the sensitive tips, down to his lobes and Daryl bites his lower lip between his teeth to hold back his startled moan. 

He can feel his heart slamming against his ribcage and his chest is hitching. It’s overwhelming, the sudden touches, being pressed so close to Merle, breathing him in and his head spins. He wants to rub against Merle, have him touch all his skin and the thought makes him feel nearly sick with shame but he can’t help it, not when Merle’s the only one who’s bothered to touch him in years, and God, he wants someone to touch him and be gentle about it. 

“…sucha pretty boy,” Merle croons, cutting through Daryl’s haze and he feels his heart skip a beat. “Soft hair an’ look at them lips, pretty lil’ lips.”

Daryl flushes harder than before and he feels it right down to his toes. He tips his head back and his eyes flutter shut as Merle continues to croon to him, whispering all the things he’s been waiting to hear for so long and it makes him feel damn good. He turns his head into the slow caresses over his hair and ears and he’s only vaguely ashamed by how hard he is in his second hand jeans. 

Merle’s neck is so close to his and he trembles a bit to feel Merle’s fingers graze his own neck. He’s licking and biting at his lips, and Merle’s cuddling him closer, his larger body draped over Daryl’s, heavy and warm. 

The beer can falls to the floor, unnoticed, and his head is spinning.

“Sucha good boy,” Merle says, and when he does, his lips brush Daryl’s ear. He feels arousal slam into him and it’s by some miracle that he doesn’t whimper the way he longs to. 

He can’t breathe and Merle just won’t _shut up_ , his slow, ragged words dripping honey in his ears. He reaches his arms up and he grips Merle’s shoulders, digging his nails in for balance as Merle’s hand slowly, too damned slowly inches down his chest, rubbing along and under the edge of his worn undershirt. 

Daryl’s on fire, every nerve in his body screaming and all he can think of is how good it feels to hear Merle whispering in his ear, telling him he’s good, so, so good, telling him how much he loves him, how proud he is and his teeth scrape the edge of Daryl’s ear, and then that’s it, that’s when it’s all too much and he comes hard and fast, still clad in his shorts and jeans. 

He gasps and blushes, his face a dark pink of embarrassment. Merle laughs quietly and nuzzles at his neck, his thumb still rubbing the bottom of Daryl’s earlobe. He tries to speak, but his voice is gone and all he can do is pant for air. Merle presses a warm kiss to the side of Daryl’s neck and he basks in the feeling despite the stickiness in his shorts, despite the fact that he wants to feel Merle touch him like that again already. 

And deep inside, he can’t help but wish Merle was like this more often, even if it takes far too many pills to achieve it.


End file.
